


Protecting Our Love

by OverlordWaffles



Series: Drowning For Your Love [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Dean Winchester, Demons, Diversions, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, Kidnapping, M/M, Protective Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Torture, Traps, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlordWaffles/pseuds/OverlordWaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't take long for the supernatural world to figure out that there's something not quite the same about the infamous hunter, Dean Winchester. It's been months since Dean grew wings, and the demons want to find out just what he's hiding. Surrounded on a hunt by a dozen demons, the Winchesters and Castiel have to struggle to protect their secret and Dean's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surrounded

“Dean! Run!” Castiel’s shout echoed across the warehouse, and Dean twisted around fast to see two demons attacking the angel. He heard the scuffle of feet from the other side of the room and saw Sam slice into a demon with a flourish before spinning around and grappling with another. They’d been ambushed on a false hunt, drawn into the trap with the false hope of protecting innocent lives. 

He panted heavily, seeing red as he saw three more demons coming for his family. He flared out his invisible wings and lunged forward, slicing into one of demons with his angel blade, the light of it’s fading life flickering drawing a pleased smirk from him. This was all they got? He spun around and got a second with a dramatic flare as he sliced it’s throat cleanly open. 

“Not bad, Winchester.” One of the demons circled him around the bodies of their dead, another trying to make it’s way behind him. He kept his spot, turning with them, keeping his front to them as he tightened his grip on his blade. “We were told you’d be a bigger hassle than usual. What is it you’re hiding, huh? What’s so special this time?” 

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” Dean said with a smug smirk. 

“Not the word on the street.” One of them smirked back, making a move forward. Dean reacted defensively, twisting around and right into a wall of three new demons. He lurched back, stumbling on his feet as he tried to lean out of their reach. He felt arms grab at his shirt, dragging him back and within seconds an arm was around his neck, choking off his air with inhuman strength. “Now that was just sloppy, Winchester.” The demon purred into his ear as the rest of the demons circled in closer to him, creating a barrier with their bodies. 

“Dean!” Cas shouted from across the room again, a flash of light blooming in the corner of Dean’s vision even as dots began to darken his gaze. The three demons in front of him stepped forward, two flanking him, as the middle one stepped right up into his face, leaning into his space without any care for boundaries. 

“What is so special about you? You are weak.” It grabbed a handful of Dean’s hair and jerked a knee up into his gut. Dean gasped and coughed raggedly, air coming harsher to his lungs as he fought the grip of the demon at his back. His vision was swimming a little between desperate breaths.. “I’m getting tired of hearing your name. It’s always ‘Dean’ this ‘the Winchesters’ that. Blah blah blah.. You’re making fools of us. You’re not funny any more. You’re annoying.” 

The demon turned it’s gaze away, assessing the situation behind him with a quick flick of his eyes across the room. Castiel had one more demon between him and them, and Sam was already on his way towards them with a look of murder in his eyes that made the demon shiver. Realizing time was short, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a slip of paper. With his free hand he reached out and placed his other hand over Dean’s heart. The other demons all crowded closer, touching Dean’s chest and arms with an almost worried look in their eyes.

“I know-” Dean gasped out, twisting to try and get more air to his aching head as the leader began chanting in a low voice the words on the paper. “Im gorgeous, g-guys, but really? The touching-” He felt a sudden heat forming in his chest, under the demon’s hand and knew whatever the foreign words were meant something bad for him. Very bad. Pain started radiating from that spot, making him feel stretched and tight. He twisted his head to the side, seeing Castiel mere feet from him. It was too late though, and he could see it in Castiel’s eyes. Panic. Fear. 

“C-Cas-” In the next moment Castiel was gone. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Dean felt like he was floating, tension and heat making his body ache, his head throbbing, and every point of contact with one of the demons felt like magma on his skin. He felt like he was moving, almost like how he felt those few times Castiel teleported them anywhere. Before he could comprehend exactly what was happening, he was landing harshly on his feet, staggering as he returned to solid ground. 

He felt faint, the demon’s grips on his skin suddenly helping support him, rather than restrain him. 

“Ah! There you are.” The rich feminine voice startled Dean, making him struggle to get his head up to confirm what he’d heard. He swallowed down nausea and forced his eyes on the red head’s. “It’s been a while, hasn't it.” She smiled sultrily as she walked up to Dean, pushing the lead demon out of her way. She set a hand on Dean’s trembling shoulder, and slunk closer, pressing into his chest as she gripped his jaw with her other hand, holding his head up to stare into her eyes. 

“Abaddon.” Dean grit. “What an unpleasant surprise. What has you on my back these days? Getting jealous?” 

“Of who? Your half human angel or your clumsy brother?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “There have been rumors, Dean. Troubling rumors.” She scratched red nails down the tender column of Dean’s neck, mock slicing across his adams apple. “I figured I ought to investigate.” She smiled charmingly, enjoying having Dean at her mercy like this. She liked how he looked with those defiant green eyes staring at her. She liked knowing he knew he was helpless to her. 

“Well, I certainly don’t know what’s got everyone’s panties in a twist. What, are you just now realizing how awesome I am?” Dean huffed out a gruff laugh, fighting off the panic thrumming in his chest. Shitshitshit. He’d been so careful lately, trying not to over use his wings, or draw attention to them, trying to keep his secret safe. It was difficult, though, when he had to re-train himself how to balance properly during every fight, when he saw his family in danger and knew a little flap of his slender wings could get him there that much faster. He grit his teeth and repeated the mantra in his head of “dontletthemsee’, willing his wings to remain invisible where they were tightly pressed into his back. He feared what she could do with his soul if she cut it from him. He could recall the panic and terror in Castiel’s eyes when he thought about the possibilities of anyone finding out about his wings. That look still haunted him every time he thought about how new and untrained his wings were. He could feel them, see them too if he had them in front of him he was sure. And it terrified him that they might be able to break his concentration on keeping them invisible and intangible. He had to keep them a secret, for Cas. For himself. 

“You smell different, Winchester.” Abaddon hissed suddenly into his ear, panting against the shell of his ear, her eyes dilated wide. “You reek of that fallen angel scum.” 

Dean snarled, twisting angrily in the hands still grasping him. “Don’t talk about Cas like that, you two cent demon whore.” He knew she was taunting him on purpose, and it rankled him. He couldn't stand her insulting words towards Castiel. The newness of the intense feelings he got every time someone threatened Castiel now were almost unbearable at times. It felt like years ago when he was still new to losing people he loved. The numbness he’d felt for so long was gone, and the surge of protective anger he got thinking of Castiel hurt or even simply disappointed made his heart ache deeply. 

Abaddon’s eyes narrowed in on Dean’s face before a startled laugh crackled from her ruby lips, setting Dean’s hairs on end. “Oh.” She slid her hand down Dean’s chest, tracing her fingers down to his tattoo. She pressed into his skin with one sharp nail, breaking the tattoo’s ink with a sparkle in her eye. She pressed in deeper, dragging her nail through more skin, cutting across the center of the ink. Smiling she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his head forward and pressing their lips together in a slow, deep kiss, a tendril of smoke trying to burrow into his throat. 

Dean gagged, feeling the smoke try to press down his throat. His heart hammered rapidly, eyes stinging with the surge of nausea that accompanied the thought of what she could do to his mind, with his mind if the smoke were to get inside of him. He felt something in him rejecting the smoke, choking it back as Abaddon leaned away to watch what was happening. She had a deep furrow in her brow as she felt Dean’s body rejecting the smoke even though his tattoo was broken. 

“What have you done to yourself, Winchester?” She growled, gripping his jaw and holding his mouth open to see the black smoke twisting angrily against his tongue. Her eyes widened as she watched the smoke sizzle away with a sudden burst of white from inside Dean’s body, lighting his eyes and mouth in a brief flash. She jerked back, feeling burned as part of herself was destroyed by the energy. The other demons seemed to feel something from Dean as well, jerking back as if shocked the same moment as Abaddon. Dean swayed in his spot for one moment before blinking dazedly once and then crumpling to the floor unconscious in the middle of retreated circle of demons. 

Abaddon stared down at his form with wide eyes, stunned into silence. She ignored the hushed murmurs from the other demons, flattening her lips into a line and growling low in her throat in anger and confusion. “You two, grab him and take him to the room.” She commanded to two of the demons. “Make sure he can’t get out of the chair. Use the etched chains, just in case. I think the angel did something to him. You two go make sure the perimeter is secure. I want those angel warding chants on repeat throughout the hallways, and in the yard. Get the decoys in place. The rest of you take a small amount of his blood and scent the area with it. I don’t want that angel or his brother getting within ten miles of his place.”

“Yes, ma’am!” 

The demons quickly set to doing their tasks, dragging Dean’s unconscious form away and going to their stations quickly, getting everything ready for the inevitable. Abaddon stayed still, staring down at her hand, one finger still stained with the hunter’s blood. She brought her hand up to catch the light, examining the drying line of blood. She leaned in and sniffed once, furrowing her brow. It smelled human, but there was something else in the scent that was off, something that made her skin crawl. Determined to get to the bottom of this newest mystery, she stalked off down to her room, needing a moment to think of her plan of attack. She knew it wouldn't be too long before they were hunted down. She’d give herself two days before the angel and the brother started causing real trouble at the decoy points. She’d give them another before they rounded up more help and at least made it to the second decoy. Four tops before they were trying to get in the real base, if they lasted that long with all the traps she had planted. She had four days to cut into the hunter and figure out the secrets hiding in the strange smell and to have her own little fun with her handsome wild green eyed captive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This scene does contain some minor graphic torture.

“What did the Angel do to you?” Abaddon asked with a fierce scowl, pretty red lips turned into something ugly as she pressed the golden brand into his thigh, sending white hot agony through his entire leg, the tendons in his hips throbbing and protesting the deep pain. 

Dean let out a humourless laugh, not caring that it sounded hysterical and looney, he was struggling to keep his mind focused, to remember why he couldn’t talk, what he was protecting. It wasn’t just him, it was his soul, and Castiel, and the heart of that magnificent universe inside him that Dean felt every time they reached that edge of sanity in each others arms. 

He wondered what day it was, only after letting out a delirious ramble of “think it was the head tilt thing, thats probably what it was, you know? right from the start he was doing that intense eye thing, yah? Fucking uncomfortable, man, I mean, you get it right? Looking soul deep? Ha!” Dean let out a throaty chuckle, feeling this eyes roll in agony at the intense light being shown into his eyes. Everything looked white, yet there were black dots flickering in his vision whenever he looked at her face. Everytime he was capable of pulling himself back to reality, able to remember why it was so crucial not to break, to keep her side tracked. He just had to buy time. 

Just last week Castiel had told him that because of their soul deep bound now, built up from a month of acceptance and love, that he would be able to find Dean’s soul no matter what warding or spells separated them. It was a sacred thing they shared, something powerful and beyond a lot of human understanding. Hell, Dean still didn’t think he got it, even though he knew what they had together was weird, different. No that he had accepted it, and felt it, and experienced what he could have with the blue eyed angel, he hadn’t been able to deny that growing part of himself any longer. 

How often over the past years had he found himself lingering on the male appearance, on the lean military men, the cute cops, the over confident bar flirts? How often did he have to stutter his way out of an experience because shit, was he really? Did he really like that feeling he got when that cute man across from him complimented him? Did he like the thought of a strong man holding him down and taking care of him? Did he really just want to be pampered and told to relax? To take care of himself and remember he had a reason to come home, now. Cas had taken over his heart almost all encompassingly. He found himself stunned sometimes to think through a situation and contemplate what would he do if it came down to Sam or Castiel? Could he make a choice? 

He felt his mind wandering away from something, something he should focus on. What was going on again? Had he said something? What had she said to him? Did he say something out loud? He stared blankly up at Abaddon, unable to read her expression, unable to see her surprise at his lack of response to her treatment. 

“I know he did something to you, Winchester. Is it really worth it to go through all this pain for a sad excuse for an angel?” She said it evenly, an honestly curious tone to her voice, her eyes uncomfortably settled into a mask of comprehension that set Dean’s defense on high alert again. Shit. He’d said something stupid. 

“What?” He asked, unable to wrap his delirious mind around her question. 

“He’s filth in their eyes, yet you protect him. Why?” 

“He’s the good guy.” Dean said with a smile, laughing at her ignorance. “I mean sure, he’s had his stumbling blocks but what else would expect from a dude that defied capital G O D? Lil dudes tough. Still kinda scares me. It’s those eyes, i think, centuries old. You’re like a toddler compared to him.” Dean laughed easily, head feeling light and hazy. He knew this feeling what that point of disconnect with his body when he’d undergone his limit, and had somehow managed to block out all the sensation by focusing so hard on something he forgot even what had brought him here in the first place. “I must be an ant to him…” 

“You’re an ant to everyone, Winchester. God doesn’t care about you. You’re already tainted. Just because you left Hell doesn’t mean it left you. And after all this other shit I’ve heard about you amongst the rabble. Hilarious. You’re going to become one of us again, and I look forward to owning you in Hell, too, for Eternity. I’m going to let the scum of the world fuck you like a prison cell bitch, I’m going to turn your soul into ribbons and turn you into that perfect little soldier your daddy could have only wished for. I could only imagine what a pretty sight your childhood must have been. After poor old Henry disappeared.” She smiled coldly at the look of horror in Dean’s eyes. “Oh, yes, sweetheart. I’ve done my research. You’re a legend, you know? The man Righteous Man that broke. Oh how glorious it nearly gives me goosebumps. You’re a pretty one, too, a natural born leader. Even twisted by Hell you’d been as radiant as our father Lucifer.” 

“Oh, man, the bad guys really never do shut up, do they?” Dean groaned, feeling a chest deep cough tickling his throat, something thick and cloying making his throat feel thick. Coughing, and feeling his entire chest rattle with the hacking sounds he knew it was blood running down his chin even before he realize how screwed he was. His body was physically at its breaking point. He was one giant raw wound, and he was sure it had only been two days, but it may have been longer. He knew Abaddon had spared no expense at her camouflage of their whereabouts, but they had no clue about their soul deep bond. Hell, he was sure Castiel would have been here already if it hadn’t been for Dean’s uncertainty of performing some sort of ritual or something that Castiel had mentioned. Something about eternally locking their soul and grace. Something only the Biblical Virgin had been able to do because she was the mother of the lords grace manifested. 

Dean felt a loose smile curling his lips and could see the twitch in Abaddon’s eyes. What had he said to her again? He couldn’t stop thinking about Castiel, repeating the chant like a blur of background noise and nonsense in the back of his head of “don’tlethersee”, thoughts narrowed down to that phrase and the reason why, the reason he had to keep silent because if she found out he’d been corrupted and used against his family friends and forced to live eternal agony instead of just a few mere days worth of physical torture. What was this compared to the memory of slicing into the tender heart of another innocents soul? Of know exactly how painful it was to have the core carved into like ivory with a tender, slow and agonizing blade. Because it had been to him for decades. He knew it wasn’t even an option for him to give away the information. He would rather die than let her have the knowledge, and that though should scare him but he had a feeling being linked with an Angel meant he might get a perk or too. At least he hoped so, because it was sure it had been hours now since he’d just wholeheartedly come to accept that he was probably going to die before Castiel and Sam got to him. Abaddon was brutal, vicious, second only to what he had experience under Alastair. She was fresher, more bitter, more irrational with her quest for power.

No doubt he was beyond healing, anyways. Afterall Castiel may still be celestial, but he was practically human, now, too. He would never not be something more, but it was still anguishing to see Castiel struggling to be human, to have needs and not just commands, to have freedom and choice, and to feel the burden to do for the world what others were ignorant about. They both knew that whatever they were was somewhere in between human and angel now, and even Sam had mentioned that lately their presence together felt different, like one larger essence that was just radiating energy and light. 

Dean remember laughing at Sam’s words, thinking surely he was exaggerating. When his eyes had lowered and clouded with emotion Dean had see his error in laughing, swallowing down the ache that came with Castiel’s quick semi-disappointed expression. He remember saying that no, no way. They weren’t anything special, just two messed up souls that started screwing each other. Even being as blunt and direct as that with his language had made Sam grow sulkier. 

He still didn’t know how to feel about Sam’s soft words, kind and too precise. Sam had always been the kinder of them, always had more compassion and understanding of the real people. Dean had grown up knowing how to deceive, to hide, to lock things away. Thank god for that now, atleast, because he couldn’t let her see, never. Can’t let you see, you evil black eyed bitch.

“You’re delirious yet you still somehow manage to keep your secrets. What makes you strong enough to do that, Dean? I’m curious.”

Dean felt his blood encrusted cheeks curve into a smirk, eyes dropping in two lazy blinks with drops of dew like tears clinging to his lashes from the natural response to the pain that was one giant throb through his body right now. “Been through worse than this. I could do better. Hell, atleast I know where all my weak spots are already. You’re surprisingly bad at this for being a so called Knight. What, just not used to the dirty work?” He didn’t mean it of course, at least not all of it. She was good, and he could feel the echo of Alastair’s influence in some of her strokes with the blade. She must have trained with him, at some points. Alastair had been old himself, experience with torture and despair, a mad scientist perfecting his art as he experimented with the best technique to destroy a soul, to turn it black, to control it.

“I liked it, you know.” He said with a slur, not sure what he was really saying, he just let the words flow as long as they didn’t break his concentration of his white noise mantra. “Cutting into those souls. Enjoyed it. I get it. But I think that’s just...it’s not the feeling that’s the best, you know? Therese something else in this world, something that just, it blinds you, and burns through you and throws obstacles in your way constantly but…” He grinned like a dofus, blood dripping from his nostril down into his swollen mouth. “this thing, this cosmic energy...it’s...indescribable. You can’t cut it from me because it doesn’t work like that. A demon can’t have this without being burned away. Even if you cut me open.” He felt his tongue flying through the words, head buzzing faster and faster as his pace quickened and his heart thundered in his veins. “You can’t have this because you lost your soul long ago, if you ever had one, and maybe that mysterious daddy up top will spare you one day, but you’re not worth it. And you’re not ever going to be. Maybe it is destiny, the bad guys are never going to win. Never. Too stupid.” 

“You’re an arrogant prat.” Dean didn’t listen to her words, his head spinning with a cacophony of sound rinding in his ears. It was almost painful, making his bruised temples hum with white hot agony. He could feel the wash of sensation wash through his numb body, sending prickles of sharp agony throughout his body. 

“Yup.” Dean heard himself say, losing interest in the womans form in front of him. She’d stopped worrying him at least an hour ago. “But atleast I’m cute.”

“I’d have to second that sentiment.” The rumble of that voice was like honey on Dean’s sense, and he turned his head with excruciating difficulty to see the heavenly sight before him. There were those magnificent wings, that glow of the universe in his blue eyes, and the aura of celestial righteousness were nearly tangible to Dean’s aching soul.

“Took you long enough, was starting to wonder if I’d get to see that righteous fury again.” He mumbled, letting his eyes doop most of the way shut as he looked on Castiel’s true form surrounding the body Dean was growing to love. Something about the way Jimmy Novak’s eyes were just right housing that millenium old being; there was something beyond words about being connected with an angel in human form. It made his mouth run dry, his thoughts dissipate, and his breath shallow out until all he could see and feel was the way Castiel’s grace felt humming through the lean runners body. A body of earth that belonged to eternity. 

“You look terrible.” 

“Feel it, too.” He smiled anyways, feeling his own mutated grace quivering in response to it’s partner being so close. Being around Castiel felt like being complete, being whole for the first time in his life. Living in the bunker with the people that mattered the most to him was beyond what he could have imagined. He wanted forever with Castiel. “Got any backup coming?” 

“Already here, Dean.” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the room, in the door frame with his blade and a demon bomb ready in his other hand. He didn’t wait for more chit chat before he was throwing the concoction towards Abaddon, the shattering container letting out a golden amber glow as it caused her vessel to turn into dust with a wailing scream even as her twisted soul snarled viciously at the rescuers she’d not expected to show up so soon. Dean saw dots in his eyes, dark and growing thicker, closing in together. 

“Dean!” Sam’s voice was sharp as it cut through Dean’s senses, eyes fluttering open with a blur of grayish pink at the corner of his eyes, something thick and almost sticky making him squint and wish for nothing more than to close his eyes against the uncomfortable feeling. They felt so heavy anyways. “Can’t pass out yet man, come on, you know better.” Sam was close now, at his side and undoing the chains around his wrists. The slight burn that had radiated on his skin constantly disappearing was like a bandage being ripped away. 

“Samm’?” Dean could taste something thick in his senses, on his lips, dripping from his ear drums. “Big bros been through worse.” He could hear the off tone in the way his voice echoed through his skull as he spoke, that hollowed out and uncomfortable loudness that drowned out his own thoughts any time he spoke. “‘sides, that what family does. Too tiny already...two is...lonely.” His head rolled around his shoulders as his limbs were released, and Sam’s arms came to hold him upright, jarring his battered body. “Gotta find that right one, ‘ammy, that one gal…” He felt like he was floating, senses elevated beyond his physical awareness. “Like mom...“ He couldn’t keep his thoughts straight anymore, squinting his eyes open just to reorient himself. Finding Castiel’s gaze on him as he came closer made Dean’s lips twitch up in a smile “Mom was an angel.” He let his eyes drop shut without much struggle at all as he felt Castiel’s grace reaching for him. “Gotta find your angel, S’mmy.”


End file.
